Remembering The Cranberries’ ‘No Need To Argue’ (30 Year Anniversary)
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On October 3, 1994, an Irish band who had proven they were bona fides with the stunning ‘Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?’ came roaring back with their sophomore album, ‘No Need To Argue’. On the album’s 30th anniversary, we dig deeper into the journey, substance, and legacy of lead singer Dolores O’Riordan and her bandmates a.k.a. The Cranberries.
How we got here
To understand ‘No Need To Argue’ is to understand what came before in the city of Limerick, Ireland. Originally called The Cranberry Saw Us – say it out loud and really fast – the band took on a recognisable shape when an 18-year-old O’Riordan came for an audition to replace their departed lead singer. She blew away guitarist Noel Hogan, his brother Mike, and drummer Fergal Lawler.
Her voice: elastic, big, and luminous all at once, would become the centrepiece of The Cranberries (thankfully renamed) with the first song she ever wrote for the band becoming their first smash. ‘Linger’ encapsulated young heartbreak with searing wistfulness and scope. Its fusing of a simple acoustic guitar with a soaring orchestral arrangement and O’Riordan’s Irish lilt created the band’s breakout hit. Released in 1993 and slow-burning its way to everyone’s CD players, ‘Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?’ would sell six million copies worldwide. This was right as the 90s alternative rock wave was cresting.
The second coming
Just one year later, the Cranberries released ‘No Need to Argue’. Revisiting the album 30 years later illuminates the growth of the band so quickly after their debut. Of course, ‘Zombie’ is the unstoppable force that became both an arena anthem and a karaoke staple. The track is a rolling ball of distortion and O’Riordan’s yodeling angst as the band bellowed for a ceasefire to The Troubles in Northern Ireland.
But the track also hints at a much more grown-up version of the band. They were not afraid to be louder, and equally, not afraid to be sadder. ‘Disappointment’ and ‘Empty’ see O’Riordan whisper and wail her way through the confusion of loss. Meanwhile the beautifully honest ‘The Icicle Melts’ wrestles with the real-life murder of a two-year-old child in Liverpool. The singer also expands her vast vocal toolbox and applies them memorably to several tracks. One example is the opening child-like ‘doo-doos’ of ‘Ode To My Family’. Another is the fragile intro of ‘Ridiculous Thoughts’, where she climbs an angelic vocal staircase to bliss before it all comes crashing down in a purposeful guitar-driven tantrum.
Keeping the same collaboration with producer Stephen Street – known for his work with the band’s spiritual heroes The Smiths and Blur – ‘No Need to Argue’ keeps the Cranberries’ understated dream-pop essence while giving them necessary wings to release and explore. The album would sell 17 million copies worldwide, becoming the band’s biggest album in their existence.
Remembering yesterday today
There’s another bittersweet layer to add to the Cranberries’ listening experience today: the passing away of O’Riordan in 2018 to an accidental drowning. Her death effectively disbanded the band, and re-listening to ‘No Need to Argue’ with this knowledge under our skin lends the nostalgia – which in its original Greek translates to ‘a pain for home’ – more acuity. Now, there is a deeper yearning within the second chapter of the Cranberries. It is a collection of aches and sharp observations of a changing world as one walks from adolescence into budding adulthood.
It’s all the more poignant since the liberal use of ‘Dreams’ in Derry Girls, the Irish TV comedy set in the 1990s that used The Cranberries to tell its own coming-of-age story. “‘Dreams’ said everything about that time,” Lisa McGee said in an interview. “You know, the hopelessness and the poetry and the drama of it. Everything is kind of big when you’re a teenager.” As a fellow teen listening to this album all the way in Malaysia, I concur. ‘No Need to Argue’ gave permission to scream at the adults making shite decisions, while also marvelling at the small, but slowly wondrous, movements of the young heart.